Crescent City 2 Quotes

Our love is stronger than time, greater than any distance. Our love spans across stars and worlds. I will find you again, I promise.

Hello, Bryce Quinlan. My name is Rhysand.

But wherever you’re headed when this life is over, Quinlan, that’s where I want to be, too.

Jace snorted so loudly that she turned on him with a frown. He wiggled his mud-caked fingers at her. His nails were black crescents. "Filthy inside and out.

Hunt’s voice was a thunderclap as he said behind her, “Light it up, Bryce.

His smile broadened as he walked out. “I never would have met Bryce.” And every horror, every nightmare … all of it had been worth it for her.

Death is the only victor in war

If you’re looking for How Not to Be an Asshole, it’s shelved between Bye, Loser and Get the Fuck Out.

You remind me that I am alive.

Ruhn looked at his sister and said softly, "You brought so much joy into my life, Bryce." It was perhaps the only goodbye they'd be able to make.

Males will always try to control the females who scare them. Marriage and breeding are their go-to methods.

The male stepped forward, tucking in his wings. He smiled slightly and said in the Old Language, in a voice like glorious night, “Hello, Bryce Quinlan. My name is Rhysand.

Want to count my abs when we get home from the ballet?

Bryce smiled sweetly at Cormac. “I get that you want to play Broody Prince, but don’t ever fucking interrupt me again.

What she wanted was a true heart to love her, to run wild with her through the forest.

He lives for you, Laurel, and that's not some kind of figure of speech.He lives every day for you.Even after you moved to Crescent City,all he did every day was talk about you,worry about you, wonder what was happening, if he would ever see you again. And even what I told him I was sick of hearing about you, I could tell he was still thinking about you.Every moment of every day.

We don't let them decide who we get to be. We'll carve our own paths.

Your cat’s a sweetheart, by the way,

The male blinked. His eyes were the same shade of violet blue as Ruhn’s.

It couldn't be. It... it couldn't be. Bryce and Hunt were frozen with shock. Ruhn whispered, "Day?" Lidia Cervos looked over a shoulder. And she said with quiet calm in a voice he knew like his own heartbeat, a voice he had never once heard her use as the Hind, "Night.

It means that he’s going ballistic in the way that only mates can when the other is threatened. It’s what happened then, and what’s happening now. You’re true mates—the way Fae are mates, in your bodies and souls. That’s what was different about your scent the other day. Your scents have merged. As they do between Fae mates.

You really want to say you’re dating the Umbra Mortis?

What is your magic, angel, but an instrument of death?

To destroy monsters, we become monsters

Hel’s armies shall strike at your command, Bryce Quinlan.

You're a power player now, Bryce, wether you like it or not.

The most brutal, sadistic asshole to have ever walked Midgard’s soil. Motherfucker Number One.

If I’d gone to you in Nena, I never would have come here. To Lunathion.” His smile broadened as he walked out. “I never would have met Bryce.” And every horror, every nightmare… all of it had been worth it for her.

Oh gods,” Bryce said, choking. “Hunt is a fucking prince.” She laughed bitterly.

If my powers only work if my big, tough male helps me out—” “It can’t be romantic?” Hunt demanded. Bryce huffed. “I’m an independent female.

I know the perfect thing to shove in that trap of yours to shut you up.” Bryce winked saucily. “Careful. I use teeth.

Snacks?” Fury said, but opened one of the rear doors. “You know,” Bryce drawled, “garbage food that provides zero nutrition for our bodies, but lots of nutrition for our souls.

Team f*ck you

So Hunt pulled back. Stared into his mate's beautiful face for the last time. He laughed softly, a sound of wonder at odds with the crystal throne room and the monsters in it. "I love you. I wish I'd said it more. But I love you, Quinlan, and..." His throat closed up, his eyes stinging. His lips brushed her brow. "Our love is stronger than time, greater than any distance. Our love spans across stars and worlds. I will find you again. I promise.

He lifted his gaze to her, stars in his eyes. Actual stars.

Beyond Sofie, beyond Emile … This world could be so much more. This world could be free. I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want that.

You remind me of the wind.” He tried to explain. “Powerful and able to cool or freeze with half a thought, shaping the world itself though no one can see you. Only your impact on things.” He added, “It seems lonely, now that I’m saying it.

Those look like broken ribs," Hunt said wryly. "Definitely broken ribs, Athalar," Bryce replied, sitting back on her heels. "And a broken arm, from the way he's cradling it." "Skull fracture's healed," Hunt observed with equal distance, as if they were on one of his favorite Vanir crime show procedurals. Ithan's eyes flashed again. "I'm sensing hostility and a good dose of male pride," Bryce said. "Throw in some stubbornness and I'd say we've got a classic case of stupidity," Hunt answered. "What the fuck is wrong with you two?" Ithan demanded.

Everything I am is yours

I want to know what Danika was up to. I feel like she was always two steps - more like ten steps - ahead. I want to know the full scope of it.

Did you love him?” Ithan whispered. You know I did,

She didn’t smile. “You might be heading in there without me today, but I’m a phone call away.” His chest ached. She’d do it—back him up against a fucking Archangel, Solas burn him. “Noted,

You mean before she traded her soul to save yours, as you did with your own.

Bryce was too fast, even for him, as she leapt in front of the blow, Starsword extended. A wild theory, only half-formed, but— Hunt’s lightning hit the Starsword, and the world erupted.

Because Danika was my mate.

Declan said, "Can we pause for a moment and remark on the fact that both of you have spoken to the Prince of the Pit? Is no one else about to puke at the thought?" Ruhn held up a hand, and Tharion lazily lifted one from the bench, but Bryce high-fived Hunt. "Special kids club," she said to the angel, who winked at her.

An image blasted through her mind. She had seen this before, carved in stone in the lobby of the CCB. A Fae male posed like an avenging god, hammer raised to the sky, a channel for his power

The female with the tattooed hands

The dead have little reason to lie.

-What do you think makes a good leader? -Someone who listens, who thinks before acting, who tries to understand different viewpoints, who does what is right even if the path is long and hard. Who will give a voice to the voiceless.

He said after a while, "You traded your resting place in the Bone Quarter for Danika's." "Given what happens to everyone over there, I feel kind of relieved about that now." "Yeah." He took one of her hands in his and laid their interlaced fingers atop his heart. "But wherever you're headed when this life is over, Quinlan, that's where I want to be, too.

Ruhn Danaan knew three things with absolute certainty: He had smoked so much mirthroot that he couldn’t feel his face. Which was a damn shame because there was a female currently sitting on it. He had downed an obscene amount of whiskey, because he had no idea what the female’s name was, or how they’d gotten to his bedroom, or how he’d wound up with his tongue between her legs. He really fucking loved his life. At least … right now.

It'd be safer not to go at all, but here we are, going," Hunt said. Ruhn wasn't entirely sure what to do with himself as the angel crossed the room and knelt before Bryce, grabbing her hands. "I want a future with you. That's why I'm going. I'm going to fight for that future." His sister's eyes softened. Hunt kissed her hands. "And to do so, we can't play by other people's rules.

She’d never thought her minor in theater would come in handy.

Because he’s Danika’s father.

Hard to enjoy being free,” Hunt countered darkly, “if you’re dead.” Cormac opened the door, stepping into the swirling shadows. “I can think of no better reason to yield my life.

Of the blade that had slain that which was unkillable.

To destroy monsters, we become monsters. Isn’t that what they say?

Sometimes I catch myself enjoying a moment, and worry I'm enjoying it too much, you know? Like something could come along and ruin all of this if I let myself have too much fun or get too accustomed of feeling happy.

So, are we supposed to meditate with you or something?” Flynn set down the mirthroot. “How the Hel would that help?” Ruhn asked. “Solidarity?” Flynn suggested.

What are you going to do about it?” Jesiba asked, as if she couldn’t help it. “Pretend it’s not happening until I can’t any longer?

Orion was bred to be receptive to our kind. Why do you think he is so adept at hunting us?

I’m sorry if I gave you false hope.” “It kept her alive in my heart a little longer,” Cormac said, swallowing back his tears. He pressed her stiff hand against his brow. “My Sofie.

What brings loyalty beyond death, undimming despite the years? What remains unwavering in the face of hopelessness? Through love, all is possible

Any other outdated jabs to throw my way?

Why would Danika tell them to lie low in the Meat Market?” “Why tell them to lie low in the Bone Quarter?” She sniffed and sighed with a longing toward a bowl of noodle soup. Hunt said, “Even if Danika or Sofie told Emile it was safe to hide out, if I were a kid, I wouldn’t have come here.” “You were a kid, like, a thousand years ago. Forgive me if my childhood is a little more relevant.” “Two hundred years ago,” he muttered. “Still old as fuck.

Bryce explained everything again, and Hunt couldn't keep himself from tugging her closer. When she finished, Ruhn echoed Hunt's words. "We got lucky tonight. You got lucky tonight." Bryce winked at Hunt. "And I plan to get lucky again." "Gross," Ruhn said as Declan snickered.

He knows we’re a team.” “A team,” Hunt said slowly. As if out of everything she’d laid out, that was what he chose to dwell on. “You know what I mean,” Bryce said. “I’m not sure I do.” Had his voice dropped lower? “We’re roomies,” she said, her own voice getting breathy. “Roomies.” “Occasional Beer Pong Champions?” Hunt snatched the hat off her head and plunked it back on his own, backward as usual. “Yes, the Autumn King truly fears our unholy beer pong alliance.

Does it matter now?” Flynn asked. “I mean, no offense, but Danika’s gone.” Bryce gave him a flat look. “Really? I had no idea.” Flynn flipped her off, and the sprites ooohed at his shoulder. Bryce rolled her eyes. Exactly what Flynn needed: his own flock of cheerleaders trailing him at all hours. She said to Flynn, “Hey, remember that time you set a dragon free and we’re dumb enough to think she’d follow your orders?” “Hey, remember that time you wanted to marry me and wrote Lady Bryce Flynn in all your notebooks?” Hunt choked. Bryce countered with, “Hey, remember when you pestered me for years to hook up with you, but I have something called standards—” “This is highly unusual behavior for royals,” Hypaxia observed. “You have no idea,” Ruhn muttered, earning a smile from the queen.

It was a still night, tinted with the promise of dawn. A crescent moon was just setting. Ankh-Morpork, largest city in the lands around the Circle Sea, slept. That statement is not really true On the one hand, those parts of the city which normally concerned themselves with, for example, selling vegetables, shoeing horses, carving exquisite small jade ornaments, changing money and making tables, on the whole, slept. Unless they had insomnia. Or had got up in the night, as it might be, to go to the lavatory. On the other hand, many of the less law-abiding citizens were wide awake and, for instance, climbing through windows that didn’t belong to them, slitting throats, mugging one another, listening to loud music in smoky cellars and generally having a lot more fun. But most of the animals were asleep, except for the rats. And the bats, too, of course. As far as the insects were concerned… The point is that descriptive writing is very rarely entirely accurate and during the reign of Olaf Quimby II as Patrician of Ankh some legislation was passed in a determined attempt to put a stop to this sort of thing and introduce some honesty into reporting. Thus, if a legend said of a notable hero that “all men spoke of his prowess” any bard who valued his life would add hastily “except for a couple of people in his home village who thought he was a liar, and quite a lot of other people who had never really heard of him.” Poetic simile was strictly limited to statements like “his mighty steed was as fleet as the wind on a fairly calm day, say about Force Three,” and any loose talk about a beloved having a face that launched a thousand ships would have to be backed by evidence that the object of desire did indeed look like a bottle of champagne.

A Fae male posed like an avenging god, hammer raised to the sky, a channel for his power—

And more will soon die in this war,” Aidas countered coolly. “Hel’s armies shall strike at your command, Bryce Quinlan.

I hail from a place between stars, a place that has no name and never shall. But I know of the Void that the Princes of Hel worship. It birthed me, too.

I can smell the starlight on you.

The Autumn King said in a voice so low no one else could hear, "You little bitch." Bryce smiled broadly. "It's 'You little bitch, Your Highness.

Randall had taught her that a long time ago. Swords could mean hope, resistance, strength. Guns meant death. They were to be respected, but only as weapons of killing, even in defense.

You’re the first person I’ve spoken to normally in…a very long time.” “How long?” “So long that I think I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be myself. I think I’ve lost my true self entirely.

Was a rebellion worth fighting, if it only put other power-hungry leaders in charge? For the innocents, yes, but … Tharion couldn’t help but wonder if there was a better way to fight this war. Better people to lead it.

The icy water hit hard as earth. She thrashed on instinct, but Jacks held her tightly. His arms were unyielding, dragging her up through the crashing waves. Salt water snaked up her nose, and the cold filled her veins. She was coughing and sputtering, barely able to take down air as Jacks swam to shore with her in tow. He held her close and carried her from the ocean as if his life depended on it instead of hers. 'I will not let you die.' A single bead of water dripped from Jacks' lashes on to her lips. It was raindrop soft, but the look in his eyes held the force of a storm. It should have been too dark to his expression, but the crescent moon burned brighter with each second, lining edges of Jacks' cheekbones as he looked at her with too much intensity. The crashing ocean felt suddenly quiet in contrast to her pounding heart, or maybe it was his heart. Jacks' chest was heaving, his clothes were soaked, his hair was a mess across his face- yet in that moment, Evangeline knew he would carry her through fire if he had to, haul her from the clutches of war, from falling cities and breaking worlds. And for one brittle heartbeat, Evangeline understood why so many girls died from his lips. If Jacks hadn't betrayed her, if he hadn't set her up for murder, she might have been a little bewitched by him.

Go to the gym or the roof if you’re going to brawl. Please. I can’t afford to lose any more furniture.” She scowled at Ithan at that. Hunt snickered. “We’ll get through the mourning process together, Quinlan. Have a proper send-off for the coffee table. Holstrom should give the eulogy, since he broke it.

Boyfriend sounds weird for you. It's so... young. But what else is there?' If he had a star on his chest, Hunt knew it'd be glowing as he asked. 'Partner?' 'Not sexy enough.' 'Lover?' 'Does that come with a ruff and a lute?' He swept a wing over her bare thigh. 'Anyone ever tell you that you're a pain in the ass?' 'Just ye olde lover.

El amor es una trampa, Hunt.

Spare me the territorial male act.

Bryce drained the last sips of her third coffee of the day, and debated whether a fourth cup would have her crawling on the ceiling by lunchtime.

But then Holstrom shouted, “That sounds medically dangerous!

Aren't all of these assholes allowed to stay in power? Who's going to stop them?" "Us. People like us. One day.

He was a stupid fucking animal. But he'd always been a stupid fucking animal around her.

Can’t you?” The cold voice slithered through the intercom. “You are Starborn, and have the Horn bound to your body and power. Your ancestors wielded the Horn and another Fae object that allowed them to enter this world. Stolen, of course, from their original masters—our people. Our people, who built fearsome warriors in that world to be their army. All of them prototypes for the angels in this one. And all of them traitors to their creators, joining the Fae to overthrow my brothers and sisters a thousand years before we arrived on Midgard. They slew my siblings.

Through love, all is possible. She knew that handwriting. “Why,” she asked carefully, voice shaking, “do you have Danika’s handwriting tattooed on you?” Baxian’s dark eyes became pained. Empty. “Because Danika was my mate.

Bryce had developed a keen awareness of Hunt’s presence, like scenting lightning on the wind. He had only to enter a room and she’d know if he was there by that surge of power in her body. Like her magic, her very blood answered to his.

The Prince of the Pit wants a worthy opponent this time. One who will not break so easily, as Prince Pelias did so long ago. He insists on facing you, Starborn, at your full power.” Bryce barked out a laugh. “Tell him I was literally on my way to training before you half-lives interrupted me.” But her bones quaked to say it, to think about who they represented. “Tell him you just knocked out my tutor.” “Train harder. Train better. He is waiting.” “Thanks for the pep talk.” “Your disrespect is not appreciated.” “Yeah, well, your kidnapping my brother is definitely not appreciated.

He couldn’t stop himself as he said, “Some people might think you were trying to kill me off, you know.” Slowly, so slowly, the River Queen turned from her weaving. He could have sworn a tremor went through the riverbed. But her voice was dangerously smooth as she said, “Then defend my honor against such slander and return alive.

Is that coffee?” Hunt busied himself with pouring three cups, passing one to Quinlan first. “A drop of coffee in a cup of milk, just as you like it.” “Asshole.” She swiped the mug. “I don’t know how you drink it straight.” “Because I’m a grown-up.” Hunt passed the second mug to Ithan, whose large hands engulfed the white ceramic cup that said I Survived Class of 15032 Senior Week and All I Got Was This Stupid Mug! Ithan peered at it, his mouth twitching. “I remember this mug.” Hunt fell silent as Bryce let out a breathy laugh. “I’m surprised you do, given how drunk you were. Even though you were a sweet baby frosh.” Ithan chuckled, a hint of the handsome, cocky male Hunt had heard about. “You and Danika had me doing keg stands at ten in the morning. How was I supposed to stay sober?” The wolf sipped from his coffee. “My last memory from that day is of you and Danika passed out drunk on a couch you’d moved right into the middle of the quad.” “And why was that your last memory?” Bryce asked sweetly. “Because I was passed out next to you,” Ithan said, grinning now.

My point is that if you are not careful, if you are not smart, you will find yourself giving up pieces of your soul before it’s too late. You will wind up dead.” “And?” She stilled. “How can you ask that so cavalierly?” He shrugged. “I’m nobody,” he said. It was the truth. Everything he was, the worth by which the world defined him…it had all been given to him. By pure luck of being born into the “right” family.

Allow me to introduce my shepherd,” The Under-King said from the mist ahead, standing beside a ten-foot-tall black dog. Each of its fangs were as long as one of her fingers. All hooked—like a shark’s. Designed to latch into flesh and hold tight while it ripped and shredded. Its eyes were milky white—sightless. Identical to the Under-King’s. Her light would have no effect on something that was already blind. The dog’s fur—sleek and iridescent enough that it almost resembled scales—flowed over bulky, bunched muscles. Claws like razor blades sliced into the dry ground. Hunt’s lightning crackled, skittering at Bryce’s feet. “That’s a demon,” he ground out. He’d fought enough of them to know. “An experiment of the Prince of the Ravine’s, from the First Wars,” the Under-King rasped. “Forgotten and abandoned here in Midgard during the aftermath. Now my faithful companion and helper. You’d be surprised how many souls do not wish to make their final offering to the Gate. The Shepherd…Well, it herds them for me. As it shall herd you.” “Fry this fucker,” Bryce muttered to Hunt as the dog snarled. “I’m assessing.” “Assess faster. Roast it like a—” “Do not make a joke about—” “Hot dog.” Bryce had no sooner finished saying the words than the hound lunged. Hunt struck, swift and sure, a lightning bolt spearing toward its neck.

Where did the dead go before the Asteri arrived? Did your tutors ever tell you that?” Her mouth softened into a smile. “No. But they told me it was… good. Peaceful.” “Do you think the souls that are harvested here ever wind up there?” “I don’t know.” Bryce blew out a breath. “Well, this is the most depressing girl talk I’ve ever had.” “It’s the first girl talk I’ve ever had.” “Normal girls dish about normal shit.” “You and I are not normal girls.” No they weren’t. They were…a queen and a princess. Meeting as equals. Talking about things that could get them killed.

El hombre alado de cabello oscuro que entró detrás de ella... Bryce ahogó un grito. —¿Ruhn? El hombre parpadeó. Sus ojos eran del mismo tono azul violeta que los de Ruhn. Su cabello corto era del mismo negro brillante. La piel de este hombre era un poco más morena, pero la cara, la postura... Eran las de su hermano. También tenía las orejas puntiagudas, aunque él tenía esas alas de cuero como las de los otros dos hombres. La mujer a su lado le preguntó a la mujer pequeña algo en su lenguaje. Pero el hombre se quedó viendo a Bryce. La sangre que tenía encima, la Espadastral y la daga, que seguían brillando con sus luces opuestas Él levantó la mirada hacia la de ella con estrellas en los ojos. Estrellas de verdad.

Can’t we find some way out of this, Mr. Fancy Prince?” “Marc’s on it,” Dec said, holding up his phone. “He thinks you two might be able to use your royal sway to either commandeer them on behalf of the royal household or get the Astronomer to accept payment for them rather than press charges.” “Payment?” Bryce blurted. “Relax,” Flynn said, smirking. “We got the money, Princess.” “Yeah, I’ve seen your daddy’s fancy house,” Bryce quipped, earning a scowl from Flynn and an ooooooh from the sprites. Bryce suppressed her smile and lifted a brow to Ruhn. She’d fucked up one friendship thanks to pulling princess rank, but this…For Lehabah she’d do it. “You in, Chosen One?” Ruhn’s mouth quirked to the side. “Hel yeah, Starborn.

You’ve known Bryce for what—a few months? We were friends for five years. So don’t fucking talk about me, my brother, or her as if you know anything about us. You don’t know shit, Umbra Mortis.” “I know you were a dick to her for two years. I watched you stand by while Amelie Ravenscroft tormented her. Grow the fuck up.” Ithan barred his teeth. Hunt barred his own right back. Syrinx hopped to his feet and whined, demanding more food. Hunt couldn’t help his exasperated laugh. “Fine, fine,” he said to the chimera, reaching for the container of kibble. Ithan’s eyes burned him like a brand. Hunt had seen that same take-no-shit face during televised sunball games. “Connor was in love with her for those five years, you know.” The wolf headed over to the couch and plopped onto the cushions. “Five years, and by the end of it, he’d only managed to get her to agree to go on a date with him.” Hunt kept his face unreadable as Syrinx devoured his second—potentially third—breakfast. “So?” Ithan turned on the morning news before propping his feet on the coffee table and interlacing his hands behind his head. “You’re at month five, bro. Good luck to you.

The silence of the apartment pressed on Ithan. He’d never lived on his own. He’d always had the constant chaos and closeness of the Den, the insanity of his college dorm, or the hotels he’d stayed at with the CCU sunball team. This place might as well have been another planet. He rubbed at his chest, as if it’d erase the tightness. He’d known precisely why he’d disobeyed Sabine’s order this spring when Bryce had screamed for help. The sound of her pleading had been unbearable. And when she’d mentioned children at risk, something had exploded in his brain. He had no regrets about what he’d done. But could he endure its consequences? Not the beating—he could weather that shit any day. But being here, alone, adrift… He hadn’t felt like this since Connor and the others had died. Since he’d walked away from his sunball team and stopped answering their calls. He had no idea what the Hel he’d do now. Perhaps the answer wasn’t some big, life-altering thing. Maybe it could be as simple as putting one foot in front of the other. That’s how you wound up following someone like Amelie, a voice that sounded an awful lot like Connor growled. Make better choices this time, pup. Assess. Decide what you want. But for now…one foot in front of the other. He could do that. If just for today.